Walking in water

Mum and I went for a walk along the beach straight after dinner this evening. We fought off temptation to retire to the couch for some well-earned potato inaction. Instead, we headed out the door.

We didn't have far to go before reaching the shore and swiftly kicking off our flip flops. We let the cool water wash over our feet as we engaged in conversations destined to solve the world's problems. It was delightful.

As we walked side by side, I couldn't help but notice my heightened senses. The sound of the waves lapping, the smell of the the salty sea air, the feel of sand between my toes and the wind playing with my hair. All these glorious sensations as I connected with my beautiful, sensitive, funny, loving, generous and nurturing mother, transported me to a place of pure bliss.

I love these magnificent moments. It's like walking-talking meditation where time performs a magic trick; it stands still, yet passes quickly. How does it do that? Oh yeah, it's magic.

Mum and I returned home feeling refreshed, and revived. It's these magical moments where we are fully present that rejuvenate us.

Then I had a light globe moment - such magic doesn't just happen, we create it.

Mum and I could have chosen recuperation by spending our evening gazing at the television. Instead, we chose rejuvenation by investing our time on the beach, with each other and walking in water.

As time goes on, I know I'll remember and treasure tonight's walk more than any Hollywood blockbuster Foxtel could offer. I'm glad we created magic.

Until tomorrow, invest your time in rejuvenation by creating your own magic moments.

Grace xx

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My beloved Nonno

Today marks the first anniversary since the passing of my beloved Nonno. I've already shed a few tears and plan to visit his resting place today, where I'm sure more will follow.

Nonno was my last surviving grandparent and I ensured that I spent quality time with him each week. We would play a traditional Italian card game called 'Scopa', which we turned into a championship tournament (he won 30 games to my 20). I savoured each moment.

When Nonno was admitted into hospital for the last time, I had a knowing that this would be 'it'. I was with him for his last conscious moments and earlier that morning, I was able to show him photos of my parent's 40th wedding anniversary we'd celebrated two days before.

We had embarked on a minibus trip down memory lane and visited all the places that were significant to them and their lives. Their family home where each of them lived as children, the church they were married in, the town hall that hosted the reception and their first home as husband and wife. It was a great day, that produced great happy photos.

Nonno's smile was so big. Seeing us in front of these places was as much a reflection for him as it was for my parents. I couldn't help thinking what it meant to him to see his one and only surviving child (my Dad) with children and grandchildren standing in front of all the places that were of great significance in his life. Nonno was happy (and very grateful) that we shared the photos with him.

Soon after the slideshow, Nonno's eyes closed and he remained unconscious for most of the day. He miraculously opened them briefly for but a few seconds when the rest of the family joined us. He even managed a smile as he focused his gaze on his great grandchildren.

It was getting late and we were making plans about what to do overnight. I was reluctant to have my Nonno be alone so I volunteered spending the night in his expansive hospital suite. We were discussing our plans as we waited for the hospital staff to bring in something to make me more comfortable, like a blanket. All the while, I was holding his hands.

Then something unusual happened.

Nonno opened his eyes and looked as though he was attempting to raise his head and shoulders off his pillow. Within a millisecond of this happening, I had the strong feeling that this was to be his last breath. I kissed and hugged him with all my heart and said "Bon viaggio Nonno, I love you, salut' a Mamina"... and that was it. He departed.

After the fact, I reflected on those last moments. What it must have felt like for him to have left this life in such a way. I think it would have been lovely. I am really grateful that I went with my feelings and prohibited my head to talk me out of it. I am often so fearful of doing something wrong and making mistakes that I regularly talk myself out of doing things that are instinctual (then later finding out that it would have been the better option).

I'm signing off now, it's time to visit Nonno.

Until tomorrow, allow your instincts to lead you despite your head thinking otherwise.

Grace xx

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My Dad, my hero

Yesterday we celebrated Father's Day.

I realise how lucky I am that my relationship with my father has prospered over the years, though it was not always that way.

My father and I both share a strong will, which at times had us locking horns - especially during my adolescence.

Distance made our hearts grow fonder when, at the age of 21, I moved to London. During the second year of my stay, Dad came to visit me (pictured above) and we had a great time being tourists together. I found it wonderful to connect with him in a way that was foreign to me and made me feel 'grown up'.

At the end of my two-year sojourn, I left London to live in the South Australian country town of Gawler (between Adelaide and the Barossa Valley) for a further six years before returning to Melbourne aged 29. Being on the cusp of the big 3-0, I thought I was well and truly grown up (haha, how wrong I was). So you could imagine how utterly perplexed I was to find myself behaving like I was 15 again.

WHAT THE?

I distinctly remember looking into the mirror and asking myself "What are you doing? Why are you being like this?". Somehow I had regressed. What happened between London and returning home?

I figured that being in new surroundings was like a clean slate. There's no history, no triggers and you can create something new - a bit like building a new home. Find a patch of land and start from scratch.

However I had come home to a place that was steeped in history, old patters, triggers and reactions. My teenage behaviour was as shocking to me as walking into a house with original mission brown cupboards and lime green Formica bench tops - it was SO OUTDATED. I needed to renovate and refurbish my relationship with father.

From that moment I got to work. I started peeling off the wallpaper - the facade of what I saw my father to be, and revealed the human being beneath. I saw a little boy who grew up to be a man. I sensed someone who had dreams and disappointments, elation and sadness, courage and fear, loneliness and joy, mistakes and triumphs. Someone not at all too different to me.

We expect so much from our parents and I don't think many of us stop and realise they are just human beings. We are particularly unforgiving of their shortcomings, especially in relation to us, our family and upbringing. We expect them to be faultless, and yet we begrudge anyone else having such unrealistic expectations of us.

So today, post Father's Day, I'd like to make a special tribute to my dad.

Dad, thank you for not being so hard on me as I have been on you. Thank you for forgiving me, loving me and accepting me, despite my many erroneous ways. Thank you for giving me a second, third, fourth and fifth chance (and any more I may have missed). Thank you for enabling our relationship to grow. I am so proud of you, for all your inventions, your creative solutions and all that you have achieved. You are a genius, you are my hero, and I love you.

Until tomorrow, remember that your parents are human beings and we didn't come with an instruction manual.

Grace xx

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Passing the Torch

Some years ago - a decade actually - I was in charge of promoting the Sydney 2000 Olympic Torch Relay in the South Australian country town of Gawler.

It all came about after volunteering at the Gawler Visitor Centre under Brian Sambell, who is now the town's Mayor (oh yeah, I know people in high places - don't you worry about that).

The aim was to raise community awareness and get people involved in nominating local heros to be community torchbearers. It was a great project and I enthusiastically embraced it.

In order to start the ball rolling, I suggested to my then boyfriend (now husband) Patrick to nominate his grandmother Lil Ruffle for the first story. Lil (aka Gran) is such an inspiration and I intend to dedicate an entire post to her. In the meantime, let's just say that she is 86 years young and still cycles on the road for over 100km (62miles) per week.

Patrick was happy to be my 'guinea pig' and his nomination for Gran was my first media story, complete with giant publicity photo, to be published in The Bunyip newspaper. It was a personal victory for me, but what followed was more than I could have ever anticipated.

Gran was selected to be a community torchbearer at the age of 76. Her goal was to run the entire distance (500m / a third of a mile) while holding the 1kg (2.2pound) torch high above her head. After 6 months of focused training in all conditions, she did it with ease - and was consequently televised on every news channel.

This morning I was passing the torch en route to the kitchen when it caught my eye. Though it has been standing there tall and proud ever since, I'd stopped noticing it and its significance. This time, however, it stopped me in my tracks and I began to reflect.

To be honest, I'm always on the lookout for blog fodder and this torch shone like a beacon today... most probably because IT IS a beacon.

I thought about how the torch came to be in our lives, its symbolism and what it has manifested. For a start, it was a dream come true and a just reward for an unsung local hero. Gran's friends flew over from Canada to watch her carry it, the family of four generations came together to celebrate it and Gran, eventually, got to own it.

The torch represents how the spark of an idea carried through can change the course of one's life and the life of those connected to them. It is also a potent reminder of how each person carries a flame that when touched, can ignite the flame of another - and to me, that flame is inspiration.

Just like passing the torch in Gran's kitchen, we erroneously walk past those that harbour inspirational flames that could potentially light up our lives. These people are our spouses, children, parents, grandparents, neighbours, family, friends and colleagues.

Until tomorrow, take time to reignite your flame with the flame of those around you.

Grace xx

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Hush hush - the secret is soul

Last night we had a sleep over at our nephew and niece's house (okay it's their parent's house, but don't tell them that).

After having spent over two months overseas, we had a lot of playtime to catch up on.

'Stacks on' was the most popular game of the evening (imagine layers of people stacked like a pancake with laughter as the syrup) that had us all giggling uncontrollably.

It was getting late for a school night and instead of tucking the little ones into bed, we were invited into the kitchen corner to engage in a hush hush conversation.

"You can take him tomorrow if you want."

"Pardon?"

"We give him one teacher-free day each term and he hasn't taken one this term." And with that, we had permission to take our young nephew out on the town for the entire day (his sister is still a little too young for such an expedition).

We decided to have lunch at Lucia's (pictured above) - a culinary institution located in Adelaide's Central Market. I have long been astounded at how food alone, was able to carry the original 70's decor of orange Formica tabletops and brown vinyl chairs through the ages.

This Italo-Adelaidean icon has gone through three generations, withstanding the pastel 80's and minimalist 90's influences, to have come full circle and be regarded as funky retro in the new millennium. Now that's what I call standing the test of time.

I often wonder what has been the secret to Lucia's success. What I come up with is soul. Sure you can talk about quality produce, consistency, value and not giving into to fads and whims - but it's soul that gives it resilience. It is soul that has seen it live on.

Then I thought about our time here in Adelaide.

While we came to Adelaide for work, we took time out on a 'school day' to have a sit down lunch with four generations of Patrick's family (him, his mother, grandmother and nephew). Sure there are other things each of us could have done that were high on the list of priorities, but we chose to spend time together - and that my friends, is soul.

Until tomorrow, may you inject soul into your everyday life and realise that what lies beneath it all is something else that stands the test of time - family.

Grace xx

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Stairway to Heaven

This photo is of a typical street in my hometown in Italy. I lovingly call it 'Stairway to Heaven' as that is what it is to me.

It is a relatively unknown village called San Marco in Lamis, which is located in the province of Foggia within the Puglia (Apulia) region.

Okay, technically it's not my hometown (that would be Melbourne) however it is the hometown of my parents, grandparents, great grandparents and many ancestors before me.

After having visited there three times at the ages of 14, 21 and 35, I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with the land of my forefathers.

There's something about connecting with your roots and learning about your heritage, that gives the present moment perspective. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's a feeling. A feeling of love, pride, appreciation and belonging (perhaps that's why I feel free to call it 'my' hometown).

Since embarking on Project Grace 2010 five months ago, I set a course to find me and my mojo. As b-day approaches I realise that nothing was ever lost - it was just hidden. Hidden from me, by me and within me. Each day I am feeling more and more like the Grace I want to be. A Grace that is happy, strong, grateful and found.

This self discovery voyage is not unlike the journey into one's lineage. It's about taking time to reacquaint yourself with everything that makes you, you. It is very much a homecoming.

Our past forms the foundation of our present and when we stop running away from it, we can make peace with it, honour it, love it. Then, unexpectedly, something magic happens. Doors to the future appear.

Right now I am standing on a precipice. I am feeling calm and clear. I am so grateful for my past and hopeful for my future - both of which makes my present moment happy. One might say 'heavenly'. I keep wondering how long this feeling will last. So far so good.

Until tomorrow, don't be scared to go back and find your stairway to heaven.

Grace xx

PS. Click here if you wish to see more of San Marco in Lamis.

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Packed like Sardines

We have been flat out doing our rekky (reconnaissance) for the upcoming tour and last night culminated in a Joseph and Mary moment on Christmas eve.

We had a day of woes, too many to tell, and by the time we pulled into the town of Millau past midnight, all the hotels were 'closed'.

Despite driving around for over an hour we decided our best (and only) option was to put all our stuff in the front seat, which included three bikes.

Why three bikes? I hear you ask. Because we are travelling with Pat's mum and dad. It's a National Lampoons vacation on steroids!

So we ripped the back seats out of our Ford Galaxy hire van and the four of us squeezed in for the night. Packed as tight as a tin of sardines. Luckily none of us ate onions, cabbage or beans or we could have been in for one gut wrenching night. Phew.

So here I am at Millau McDonalds for their free wi-fi and clean bathrooms. The things we do, the things we do.

Until tomorrow, be grateful for all the space that surrounds you.

Grace xx

ps. This photo was taken from David Wray's blog because I love it.

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Happy 75th Birthday Dalai Lama

Today marks the Dalai Lama's 75th birthday.

You know when you're asked "If there's anybody in the world, dead or alive, that you could have dinner with - who would it be?"?

More often than not, I'll answer "The Dalai Lama".

I don't know what I'd say to his holiness face to face as I had a hard enough time signing his birthday global tribute.

His balding head, square glasses and warming smile reminds me of my late grandfather - though I'm not so sure that's appropriate dinner conversation.

What I'd like to know is how he feels. What's it like to be a world spiritual leader. Did he graciously accept his destiny or were there times when he questioned it. I'd like to know the human being behind the smile and the words of wisdom.

In the meantime, I'll keep feeling all warm and fuzzy over his likeness to my beloved Nonno. That'll be our secret.

Until tomorrow, is there someone in the world that you'd like to have dinner with? If so, who and why?

Grace xx

PS. Back in France on day one of our pre-tour reconnaissance. The tour starts in one week and we have a LOT of work to do - yikes!

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Setting the Record Straight

Today is cleaning up day - setting the record straight so to speak.

Rather than responding to all different comments, emails and Facebook messages, I've decided to do it once - right here, right now - for everyone to read.

1. Yesterday's nude photo of me was in fact Photoshopped (it was supposed to be funny). It's my oversized head atop of another woman's body (wasn't that obvious?).
   
   Said body was chosen because private bits were covered - and I thought it'd give the image a PG rating instead of XXX.
   
   For those who want to see the REAL me naked (and still remain within a PG rating), check out my YouTube video embedded below. It's a photo montage of the day I modelled nude for Australian artist Samantha Lord, and salvaged my self esteem.
   
   
2. My initial upset over the failure to ignite a global conversation to support others going through grief, was largely to do with failing to ignite a global conversation to support others going through grief. I was not upset about having 'no comments' (thankfully that was cured post 'I am revolting').
   
   
3. To Chanel who wrote:
   
   "YOU were my light, you were the voice of HOPE, you held my hand and told me it would be ok. I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER for standing there naked with me!"
   
   My first response to you is - YOU are my light, YOU are the voice of hope, thank YOU for reminding me all will be okay. I also love you forever and thank you for standing naked with me.
   
   My second response is yes, I was talking about you. While I am utterly inspired by you and your miracles, I don't reveal the identity of family or friends without consent. You (as in all of you who are reading this right now and have spotted yourself in a story), are more than welcome to reveal yourselves in the comments (not that I'm begging for comments - didn't I say that I was cured?).

Until tomorrow, if records need to be straightened - straighten them.

Grace xx

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Tick-Tock the Clock Knocks

I invested some time this afternoon looking at some recent photos of my gorgeous nephew and niece (courtesy of Facebook).

It confirmed without a doubt that they are indeed gorgeous (I am not biased).

The little rascals live 755km (470mi) away in rural South Australia, which means that I don't get to hang out with them as much as I'd like. Whenever I see photos of them, I'm always a little stunned - it's like time just did a massive leapfrog.

What have I missed in between?

It saddens me to think of it.

This leapfrog phenomena contrasts to how I experience life that immediately surrounds me. Days seem to merge into another and before I know it weeks, months, years and decades fleet past (a bit like little droplets of water filling up a bucket, sink, bath, swimming pool).

So today I started thinking about time.

Time would have to be the most precious resource (besides food, water and shelter). Each second is a premier, a debut never to be repeated. We cannot buy it or save it - but we sure do spend it. Do we spend time frivolously or invest it wisely - or perhaps a bit of both?

This is what I am pondering right now.

How do you spend your time? Do you consider it a wise investment?

Until tomorrow, may the tick-tock of the clock remind you of life's other precious things.

Grace xx

Life's Gift

Do you ever have moments when you feel like you're the luckiest person in the world?

You're appreciation for life paints a smile that's angelical. You sing praises all round in a voice evangelical. You cannot hide, the feelings inside and keep searching for words that end in an 'elical'.

That's how I'm feeling today.

After a wonderful evening last night with two girlfriends that I've known and loved since high school (hi Jaala and Sam!), followed by a fabulous day having lunch with my family... I am feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

Sometimes we need to stop worrying about things we have to do in the future, or lamenting over things we have done (or haven't done) in the past... and just be present in the now.

Having a great time with friends and family helps keep us in the present moment. For we all know that the present is indeed, life's gift.

Until tomorrow, may your life be full of 'elical' moments.

Grace xx

ps. The photo was taken 18 years ago when I lived in London.

pps. When I'm happy I break into song, rhyme or limericks... and yes, I did just make that up based on the photo (I read your mind).

Flat Out

When you're flat out, it's okay to take time out and regroup. In fact it's considered healthy and is encouraged - but you're too busy to take heed.

Taking time when you're not flat out, should also be okay - only for me, it's not. The permission process is often fraught with guilt, shame and torturous internal battles. I have to earn my time out.

Letting myself 'off the hook' is not so easy being me.

I start by building a case based on worthy reasons with a long list of benefits to support my time out proposal.

In almost all cases, under duress and great stress, I eventually grant myself permission - only I am so depleted by the process that often I can do little more than lie on the couch gazing at the idiot box (a DVD is a bonus if I can drag myself to the video library).

Today, I took a clean break.

Yes, you read it correctly, I took a CLEAN break - meaning without punishment or guilt or longwinded inner arguments. What's more, is that according to my old outdated measuring scale, I didn't even earn it! (do I hear a roaring cheer?)

My brother and his wife invited me on a boat trip with their young family. I love love LOVE hanging out with little people, they are so much fun, and my 5 year old nephew and 3 year old niece are no exception. The decision to accept their invitation was a 'no brainer' - and I did it freely.

We cruised Melbourne's Yarra River (see photo) and the day turned out to be perfect. On the way home, I noted the time and said to Pat "I have to post today's blog in an hour" (I post daily to the US time zone and it clicks over to midnight at around 6pm local time).

So I decided I was going to call today's post 'Time Out' and explain that I was indeed taking time out. The plan was simple, choose a photo from today's outing, put the one-sentence 'Time Out' disclaimer, hit 'Publish Post' and voila! - all done.

As you can probably guess, it didn't go quite as planned. After choosing my photo, I thought 'Flat Out' was a far more appropriate title and look what happened...???

Looks like some habits die hard.

Until tomorrow, may you take all the time out you need - whether you are flat out or not.

Grace xx

The most inspiring family I know

Yesterday my friend Ryan celebrated what he described as his 34th lap of the sun.

Though I must confess, he didn't do it all by himself; he was riding on the coattails of planet Earth that did most of the hard work for him.

Ryan and his clan are currently doing a six month sabbatical in Spain. This is not the first time the family have uprooted themselves from the comforts of their own home to experience life elsewhere.

In 2004, they relocated to Nanaimo (Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada) for a period of two years. It was during this time that I realised the only thing stopping me from being anywhere in the world, was me.

If anybody could find an excuse not to travel, it would surely be a family of four with two children under the age of six. What might appear as insurmountable odds for some, turned into comic challenges for these transient vagabonds.

At the end of their sojourn, they spent three months travelling around the north American continent in 'Wicket', their beloved Dodge mini van (aka caravan of courage). With tales of freezing overnighters in the back of the car (a result of boycotting overpriced holiday parks) combined with their staple diet of porridge (which Jesse fought against with dry retching horror), loaves of bread, roast chicken and ranch dressing, one might be inclined to ask "Why do all that again?"

The answer is simple: Adventure.

Life is made up of experiences, which transform into our most potent possessions - our memories.

When it's time for us to go - we cannot take our house, our cars, our jewellery, our 'toys' and our collection of worldly objects. All we are left with, and what we leave behind, are memories. Our memories belong to us and those we share them with. We cannot be separated from them, they are ours to keep. They cannot be stolen, traded or sold. They remain with us till our final hour.

To Ryan, Jo, Zach and Jess, thank you for being a huge part of my life. Our amazing adventures are now some of my most fondest memories. From our time together in Canada (namely Stobie Pole, Fengi and ice cream the size of babies heads), to our Nubsical journey with our buddy, Mr. Tingwell - not to mention last night's hilarious long distance video call (pictured). You guys rock and continue to be an inspiration to me. Olé!

And to you, reading this blog... be sure to create great memories, for they will surely be the most valuable treasures of your life. Start a new adventure today.

Until tomorrow, "¡Ándale! ¡Ándale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba!"

Grace xx

ps. If you want to follow this family's adventure blog, just click here.

BTW did you know that it's 17,310km (10,670miles) between Madrid and Melbourne? Our 'space age' technology never ceases to astound me;
N-V-T-S nuts!